The Reichenbach Letters
by musicalrose221
Summary: Told by his therapist to find a new way of letting out his feelings, John Watson decides to write his late best friend Sherlock Holmes letters. He knows that Sherlock will never read them, but he is willing to try anything to let it out of his system.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Sherlock

My therapist thinks I should write you some letters. To... to get it out of my system. I think it's a stupid idea, it's a ridiculous idea, but... but anything to relieve the pain.

So. Um. Not much has happened while you've been away. I've been looking at jobs . There's always need for doctors. There are so many jobs around. I could...

What am I talking about, Sherlock? I'm babbling. You'd tell me to shut up about now, wouldn't you? If you were here. If you were...

Sherlock, what I'm trying to say is... I'm trying to say...

Sherlock, I've missed you. More than you could possibly imagine. Yes, I missed you. It's a human emotion. You might be familiar with it. I can't... function so well now. My limp came back. I know, you probably would have guessed that... not guessed, worked it out...

Oh my God, Sherlock. I... come back. I need you here. Stop this. You... You can't be dead. You're not dead. Stop playing games. It's not funny.

I'm staying in the flat, at the moment. I haven't been out in... a while. At first I couldn't go back, now I can't leave... I know, I'm an idiot. Tell me that. Talk to me. Tell me how stupid I am, how everything I do is wrong or ridiculous, how I'm average and unimportant.

I know you weren't a fake. I can't... I can't believe what you said. You could be that clever. You could. Moriarty was real.

I need you, Sherlock. Come back. For me.

Please.

John Hamish Watson


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Sherlock

Mycroft came to visit me today. It was... interesting. Well, when I say interesting... he came to see me, and we sat in silence for half an hour before he made an excuse and left. He misses you too. He would never admit it, but he does. Why else would he have come?

I heard that he's come out as gay. Not that you hadn't already guessed that. I suppose you don't really want to know any more details. Your brother's personal life never exactly fascinated you. I suppose I always assumed that he was asexual, like you.

It's been two months now. Two months since...

Actually, you know what? Let's talk about something else. Let's talk about Anderson's divorce with his wife, or Mycroft's new partner. Let's talk about Donovan's expulsion from the force. Let's talk about Mrs Hudson's new blue sofa. The suspicious suicides of three teenagers. The human fingers I found under my bed. The fact that Mrs Hudson gave away your scientific equipment.

Don't blame me for that, by the way. I wanted to keep it. She said that St Joseph's secondary school would love the equipment.

I'm considering applying for a job there, actually. Science teacher. I'll have to polish up on my physics, but I'm easily qualified enough in biology and chemistry. I know the face you would be giving me now. A "Why would I want to work with children?" look. They're the next generation. The next you and me, Sherlock. Stamford thinks he might be able to get me a job .

I haven't told him about you yet. He probably knows already, though. He hasn't mentioned you, though.

When I think about it, no one has mentioned you. I think Mycroft might have got Mrs Hudson to ambush people before they go anywhere near me. Warning them to not say anything. Like I'm going to break down. Well.

Oh, stop giving me that look. You know I hate that look. If I want to...

Anyway.

Just remember to still be alive for me. Just... remember that.

Please.

John H Watson


	3. Chapter 3

Dear John,

Well.

You don't know how long I've sat here and stared at this blank piece of paper. I don't know what to say to you. I suppose I should start by explaining my actions.

Moriarty had snipers, John. If I didn't kill myself, he would have killed you. And Lestrade. And Mrs Hudson. Caring was a disadvantage, after all. I won't tell you how I did it. How I pretended to kill myself. You would only worry about me.

I suppose you'll never read this letter. I can't send it to you, not yet. You can't know I'm still alive. When I do eventually tell you, I will talk to you face to face.

Which makes this letter a pointless waste of my time.

I'm bored, John. At least if you were here, I probably wouldn't be so bored. I need you again. Only because I need distraction, you understand. But... Um. I miss you.

Mycroft knows already. He tells me you're... quite upset. You don't need to be. I'm perfectly all right. I don't understand why you'd worry so much about me. If you think I'm dead, you might as well just admit it and move on. There's no point... being upset now.

I hope you don't miss me too much.

SH


End file.
